


Far too gone

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: John is a cutie, M/M, paul is high, paul is high high, robert is perverted, this is a mess, this was not how i wanted it to go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 08:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Robert & Paul have a fatal night in Paris





	Far too gone

**Author's Note:**

> i got lazy at the ending cause i’m tired

— 1966, Paris. 

Glistening lights livened up Champs de Mars, flashes of camera and laughter bloomed throughout the town. Five Avenue, Anatole France. The heart of Paris in other words. Candles, blankets and placed affectionate kisses being shared under the towering Eiffel tower located above the curious pedestrians. A gentle gust of wind breezes lightly throughout the town, mixed in with warmth of the different people crowded around the area. Two out of the fifty or more people down below are Paul Mccartney and Robert Fraser, slightly exhausted from running around town after observing art pieces everywhere they could find. Along with the numbing rush of cocaine which was still flooding their systems, after a few hours of the dosage. 

“Beautiful, is it not?” Robert asked peacefully, leaning back on his two palms as he gawked earnestly at the tower above them. Paul nodded, mewling pleasantly as he leaned back on his elbow and gazed up innocently at the Eiffel tower. 

“Paris is beautiful.” Paul softly stated, slightly swaying on his elbow as he tried to keep himself from jittering. This reminded him of something, he can’t lay his finger on it though, especially with his drug hazed mind. “It’s nice, pretty and it smells like baguettes.” Paul garbled a few words out to add on, before giving up and slumping his head, neck and back against Robert’s chest. 

Robert lazily dropped his eyes down to Paul, and began to smile at the younger man’s dazed face. He was so high on cocaine it was absolutely hilarious, but Robert did have a sunken feeling that John would kill him just for having Paul lay his backside against Robert’s chest. The thought of the dangerous territory he was stepping in made a smirk of satisfaction cross his face, and to challenge himself, the older man rested his hand on Paul’s clothed thigh. 

Paul jumped up a bit in sheer surprise at the sudden warm touch, before sputtering out laughter that he couldn’t control for the life of him. He twisted his head around so that he was looking up at Robert, his puppy dog eyes were shockingly more huge than they usually were. His pupils were extremely dilated, and his body was shaking uncontrollably as he smiled up innocently at Robert. “Groovy Bob, so handsy you are.” Paul purred, as he playfully tip toed his fingers up Robert’s own thigh before dangerously placing his whole palm down near his crotch. 

Robert bit his bottom lip, moving his hips just a bit so that Paul was unknowingly gripping his hardening cock underneath the layers of pants. The older man shivered under his touch, “Spare me Mccartney.” 

“Why should I?” Paul giggled, before turning back around so that his back was against Robert’s chest again, snuggling incredibly closer into the warmth of him. The older man wrapped an arm around Paul’s waist, and pulled him even closer for it to seem as if they’re actually dating. Second by second, he was improvising his plan. 

He didn’t know if he wanted to bed Paul tonight. Robert thought it was a step too far, especially since Paul is obviously isn’t anywhere near sober. Also they were in Paris, the hometown where the birth of love was formed by Paul and John. It was the place where they were conjoined together romantically, pronouncing their love and starting their secret romantic relationship. Then again, all the risks aligned with this made Robert drool — he imagined John’s face growing into a dark red with never ending anger. That would be something to put in the books. 

“You’re thinking Robert,” Paul said, his voice was unusually gentle and soft. The younger man was unknowingly caressing Robert’s leg and ankles as he stared silently up at the tower. Robert ran a hand through Paul’s dark hair, and let his other hand gently squeeze his waist. “What are you thinking about?” Paul asked, fluttering his eyes lightly closed as he nestled against the older’s gentle touch. 

Robert took a moment to buy into Paul’s extreme attractiveness. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealousy towards John by all accounts, especially how the lights above them glistened onto Paul’s pale skin which really brung out the beauty’s features. Robert couldn’t help himself but to just sit and admire, Paul was like a living artwork just casually resting his body against Robert’s — his breathing was quick, slightly labored. Robert snickered to himself, feeling a bit bad for giving the twenty-four year old slightly spiked cocaine, along with several other drugs. “You. Just how beautiful you look tonight.” Robert let the words slip out without his permission, and it caused both men to freeze. 

Two lines of cocaine. A joint of angel dust, marijuana, heroin, and lastly meth. Two pills of LSD, and last but not definitely in this case, not least; heroin shot up through the bloodstream. Robert’s smile slightly faded, thinking he overdone the younger man tonight but it brightened up again as Paul affectionately squeezed his leg. 

“That’s gay.” Paul softly said, and then smiled, with his hazel eyes still peacefully closed. Robert noticed that his right eyebrow was slightly twitching. 

•••

“Hello, hello, hello — this is James Paul Mccartney-Lennon-Fraser speaking!” Paul answered the rattling phone with a high pitched posh voice as he hung upside down on the hotel bed he shared with Robert. 

“...Paul it’s me, your boyfriend.” 

“Heyyy Johnnyyy,” Paul dragged out, sticking his legs up in the air and spreading them out. “Missing you babe.” 

“Paul? Are you okay?” John asked, with concern laced all in his voice. Paul never talked like this, and his voice was all soft and truculent as if he was trying to talk someone to sleep. It had the significant opposite affect on John, and it inducted fear above all the emotions coursing through his body right about now. There was a shallowed silence at the other end, which had caused John to nervously shift in the chair he was sitting in of the trailer. 

A crackle of light laughter resounded from the other side, along with a girly like shriek of laughter. “Yes- yes I’m okay, Johnny. Are you done with the World war two thing?” 

“It’s called How I Won the War Paul.” John frowned, a bit suspicious from how quirky Paul was acting at the moment. As much as he loved when Paul would loosen up and stop being so proper, this was so uncharacteristic of him. John knew Paul more than Paul knew himself, and what he knew is that his Paul was not okay. The thought had frightened him, and it certainly didn’t help that he was off in Spain. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” 

At this time, Robert came out of the bathroom. A towel wrapped around his waist with the residue of his shower dripping down his chest to his abdomen. The older man ran a hand through his wet hair, and sent a wink at Paul who only stuck his tongue out in response. “Yeah, I’m okay John. Just having a case of cloud nineteen.” Paul said, smiling gingerly as he arched his legs against his chest which made Robert’s blood shoot down towards his member. 

Robert’s eyes lit up at the thought of John on the phone, and an idea propped its way into his mindset. The older man stocked his way towards Paul who began to kick his legs, half-listening to John rant about his safety. 

Paul was so far gone, he wasn’t even Paul anymore. 

“I’m serious Paul! I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t—“ The other half was cut off by his own thoughts, from how vibrant the room had looked to how 3D Robert’s shower water seemed to drip down his body. Also how Paul noticed how close Robert had gotten, his eyes fluttered up to meet Robert’s dominating ones which burnt holes into his skull. 

“You have pretty eyes.” Paul softly said, not even referring to which man he was talking to. John stopped mid sentence about his declaration of love towards Paul, and then he said something among the lines of ‘don’t change the subject.’ Robert knew better than to say thank you, knowing John could easily hear him through the phone so instead he leaned down and started kissing upon the tender skin of Paul’s neck. 

“Paul are you listening to me? God you’re making me sound like you now.” 

“My what lovely lips you have.” Paul gasped, as he giggled childishly afterwards. The younger man clamped his hand against Robert’s upper back, which silently persuaded the older man to take it a step further. At this point, his plan was only building up even more — he even went as far to think about having sex with Paul whilst he talks on the phone with John. Especially how he’s nestled in between Paul’s inviting legs, and how his damp towel grown tight around his waist from how hard he became. 

“I- Paul what the fuck are you talking about?” John asked, visibly frustrated by Paul’s giddiness. He asked himself, is this what he was like whenever Paul had to take care of him while he was high? If so, he felt incredibly sorry for the younger man. 

Robert bit down on Paul’s neck, eliciting a soft moan from the younger alone with an encouraging buck of his hips. Paul was hard. The feeling sent a shock of awestruck bewilderment through Robert’s bloodstream, it seemed as of now he wanted to take Paul apart, not even caring that his boyfriend of five years was on the phone concerned about Paul’s well-being. To Robert, it just made it all hotter and more dangerous than he expected the situation to become. 

“Oh- oh fuck John what big teeth you have.” Paul literally squeaked, as he twisted under the hickey inducing love bites being planted upon his creamy-milk skin tone. The feeling of warm hands caressing his sides, observing and intruding every spot of his body. Along with the lingering squeezes, and gentle massaging — Paul was in another universe, ebbing away consciously and mentally which left him numb. 

“Paul what the fuck is going on over there? Where’s Rob-” John stopped in mid sentence, listening to Paul’s soft sighs and labored breathing which to anyone else would be immediately concerning. A clock was ticking in his head, his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were wide with determined thoughts. 

Ding. 

“That son of a bitch!” John slammed the phone down, grabbing his coat and running out of the trailer to see the movie executives setting up the set. Richard Lester turnt around in his director chair, watching intently as John sprinted out into the sandy desolate area of where they were filming.   
After a few seconds of wonderment, he turnt back around in his chair and continued directing the crew. John Lennon was off doing John Lennon things, and he felt as if it was not his place asking. 

Meanwhile, Robert pulled away from the kiss he had Paul in for the past forty-five seconds. A thin sleeve of saliva was drawn out from between both of their lips, Paul’s soft breathing and distant eyes which showed no other emotion except lust was fueling up his bloodstream. Robert pushed a strand of hair from Paul’s pale face, which he distinctly noticed was becoming even more paler by each second that passed. Paul withered underneath Robert, body trembling softly as he felt himself becoming more gone. 

“I don’t feel good.” Paul muttered gently, softly threading his fingers through Robert’s hair. The older man chuckled, wiping access saliva away from the corner of Paul’s mouth. The younger then broke into a some sort of a forced smile, “Johnny’s mad at me.”

“How would you reckon that?”

“He said something like...fuck. Yeah fuck, that’s what he said.” Paul said, sitting up a bit which had made Robert back up a few centimeters while his eyes still held contact with the younger man. “I gotta pee.” Paul heavily murmured, which came out as a pitched hitch when he felt Robert cup his hard on into his palm while hovering over him. 

“No you’re just hard.” Robert smiled, fondling with Paul’s clothed cock which made the hazel eyed man twitch under his touch. Or twitch in general. Paul was twitching bad, but Robert discarded the sight and eyes laced his twitching up with the frequent drug use — he thought Paul was itching for more. 

“Oh John- I want John he knows what to do in these situations.” 

“I do too.”

“You’re not John silly.” Paul burped, before recoiling at the sourness of future vomit that filled his mouth afterwards. “I shouldn’t of had kissed you, you might get sick.” 

“Come on princess, I know something that would make you feel better.” Robert smiled, getting off of Paul and grasping at the sleeve of his shirt to hoist the almost violently shaking man off of the bed. 

John plopped down at his reserved seat on the train to France, hands shaking and body hot with unspeakable rage he hadn’t felt ever since his mother died. The stress ball he had became useless as John basically crushed it so hard in his fist it couldn’t bloom back onto its sphere shape. Millions of horrifying thoughts were running through his mind, how could Paul do this to him? He knows he’s been a dick to Paul thousands of times but he really packed up a lot of balls to try and play John Lennon. John was so angry, he was mumbling incoherent babbles and outbursting into oblivion at random moments. Right now he was on the fastest train he could aboard, and his next stop was France. 

Paul was pressed against the wall, head laid back against the wall as well as he bucked his hips into the heat of Robert’s mouth. The younger man’s breath quickened, his lungs were burning for proper air as sweat matted his hair up. Paul’s button up white shirt was dangling at his sides, revealing exposed pale skin with different patterns of love bites and bruises trailing up to his neck. Robert twisted his head, removing his saliva coated his lips from the tip of Paul’s throbbing cock which was leaking strings of cum. The sight of Paul pleasantly debauched was utterly magnificent, Robert made a note to himself to draw something like this later on whenever he had the time. 

Paul’s body stilled as another pulsing strength shocked through his body, leaving another rope of cum to spurt out. Afterwards he dropped his head forward, and exhaled exasperatingly through his mouth. “Jesus-” He panted, before pressing himself against the wall as Robert stood up from his knees. 

“I want to fuck you now, but you’re far from sober.” Robert breathlessly said, holding Paul against the wall then attacking his lips afterwards. Paul let out a surprised squeak against his lips, recoiling slightly at the rather salty taste of himself against Robert’s lips but after a few seconds a sugary taste followed up with that. A flowery fog of flowers bloomed into Paul’s head, he didn’t even notice he was being sloppily kissed right about now and he did not even know if he was kissing the older man back or not. 

A gentle breeze brushed against the wheats sticking out from the dirt blanketed upon the Earth. Blue skies, and spaced out puffy, soft looking clouds that didn’t seem too grey to form any damaging rains. A miniature John Lennon sprung up seven feet into the air upon his unrealistically strong kangaroo legs, his extended ears wavered in the wind that brushed against him as he jumped. Chasing the raccoon-John Lennon was a eight year old Paul, arms in the air with a winsome smile spread across his buoyant face. Once his arms wrapped around the kangaroo, after tackling it onto the ground which made John Lennon-kangaroo screech out in horror, Paul buried his face into its neck.   
“Paul!” Paul turnt his head away from Lennon-kangaroo, ignoring its screams of terror from being kidnapped by an eight year old kid. Paul’s eyes widened as his hazel eyes landed on his mother who was waving, tears filled the brim of his eyes as he stood up onto his feet with his arms around Lennon-kangaroo’s neck. The wind blew once again, causing both their hairs to gently flow into the wind as Mary wave gingerly from far away. Paul dropped Lennon-kangaroo, and came rushing towards his mother with his arms wide opened along with tears blistering his eyesight. 

“Mummy! Mummy!” Paul cried, tripping down on his footing which sent him crashing down onto the ground. Paul quickly recovered, suffocating on his own tears as he sped towards his mother who had her mouth covered. Mary had tears streaming out her own eyes as he knelt down, arms spread as Paul crashed onto her so hard she fell down on her side. Her arms wrapped around his small frame, holding him close as he sobbed uncontrollably into her shirt. “I missed you so much mum!”

“I missed you more my dear Paulie, I’m here now, I’m here. I’ll always be here.” 

“I love you mum.” Paul sniffed, lifting his head up from his mother’s shirt to stare into her eyes. Mary couldn’t help but release a tear from her own eyes as she stared into her son’s eyes, leaning down to rest her lips affectionately against his forehead. 

Robert pulled away from Paul once again, staring into the other’s eyes which looked blurred from the outside. It was just this fog that covered everything, which made the older man slightly frightened — did he look like that whenever he smoked so many drugs at once? Maybe Paul just needed a bit more. Robert took Paul’s hand in his, silently leading the younger man towards the bathroom to get his supplies for injections of heroin. Paul self consciously pulled up his trousers and fixed them up before sitting down on the toilet seat. He had then out a strangled sound that resembled something between the lines of, “John’s a kangaroo.” 

“You’re high as hell, Paul.” Robert laughed, spreading his supplies out on the floor before reaching up to take ahold of Paul’s arm. “After this maybe we could negotiate something.” 

Paul hiccuped, and relaxed as he felt Robert move his arm around, tying something on it. Why was his life suddenly flashing in front of his eyes? What was going on with his brain? Why did he feel as if some parts were shutting down? Paul tensed as he felt the toxic drug fill up his bloodstream, then a comforting hand stroke his forearm. 

“Paul? Oh shit. Paul?! Paul!” 

The last thing he heard was the door open and a familiar sound of John screaming his name. Along with Robert who’s voice was flooded with sudden terror, but Paul couldn’t point out what was happening. Paul was far too gone, he wasn’t even himself. 

•••

John threw himself into the bathroom the second as Paul collapsed face first onto the tile floor. His eyes widened and his face drained of blood as Roger shook his boyfriend violently. Shock was all he could feel run through his bloodstream, every other emotion was held up in stock. After catching Robert’s blood shot gaze, which was filled with terror and sorrow until John broke his eye socket by kicking him in the eye with the front of his boot. 

As Robert let out a scream of pain, and horror. John gathered Paul’s limp body and hurriedly dragged him out of the bathroom. Tears were already streaming down the older man’s face as he held Paul onto his arms, body shaking as he stared down in complete shock at Paul’s pale face. “No- no, no no no Paul. Please stay with me!” 

There was no mistaking that Paul was dead, just from the way he didn’t react to John’s pleas. Along with his lack of breathing and the thin sleek of foam drawling down the side of his mouth. What really spoke out was how blurred Paul’s eyes were, it seemed as if his pupil had took over the whole iris. John let his body tremor uncontrollably, brushing strands of hair away from Paul’s face before leaning him up so that Paul’s face was pressed against his chest. The man rocked back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably as Robert limped towards the phone with his eye covered with one hand. 

“What did you do to him?!” John screamed, which took him back because his voice hadn’t seemed to be his at all. 

John was far too gone. 

•••

George, Ringo and John stood over the closed casket at Paul’s memorial service. Michael and Jim were out sobbing, not available to even be inside during the service knowing they couldn’t take it at all. George silently clenched his jaw, glancing over at Brian who was stuck staring at a portrait of Paul he never seen before. 

George turnt his gaze away afterwards, “This is fucking shit.” He spat tearfully, turning his body away from the casket to storm out of the church house. Ringo made a choked out gasping noise, tripping over himself as he chased behind George to retrieve his sobbing younger friend. 

John placed his hand on Paul’s casket, a nauseous feeling settling over his stomach by the coldness of it. Once again, John was far too gone to even figure out what was happening anymore. He had just lost the love of his life. So unexpectedly, so unready. 

——

—Spain. 

“What the fuck?”

“What?” Paul asked, blinking innocently at his three band mates and at Robert Fraser who was just as confused. “That’s how the dream went, I don’t see how you guys are surprised.” 

“You made me up as some kind of evil man. Who wanted to have sex with you on top of that. I mean the second one is right, but I’m not evil.” Robert said bluntly, lighting up his cigarette as he wandered off towards Brian who was having a very important talk with Richard Lester. 

John gave him a demeaning look from the last sentence Robert uttered out as he walked away. Afterwards the second oldest Beatle turnt his head back towards Paul who was unknowingly scratching his arm where he supposedly got injected. It all seemed too real. “Speaking of that dream, nothing happened on that trip with you and Robert in Paris right?”

“No John, of course not. I love you too much, and even if I was high I don’t think I could sabotage us like that.” 

“I think he would.” Cynthia causally said as she passed by with an ice cream cone, ruffling John’s hair. Everyone except John laughed, relaxed at how Cynthia knows that there was something going on between John and Paul but she knew not to interfere. It was basically like a three-way relationship, but Paul and Cynthia never decided to sleep with each other. 

“Hardy ha ha.”


End file.
